


The Year After Disaster

by StormsThing1



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, getting better story, post-cannon, this kids are messed up, trauma and dealing with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6054763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormsThing1/pseuds/StormsThing1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year after disaster was filled with lots of things. Stress, anxiety, nightmares. But healing will be one of them too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bus Ride After Disaster

The bus ride after disaster, and his head was hot. The new hat Wendy had plopped on his head sat differently than other hats he'd worn before. It was good at keeping heat in, and the coziness was nice at first, but it had become uncomfortable, the sweat dibbling down his neck felt like little spiders.

The bus ride after disaster was quiet. Anyone else who had wanted to leave Oregon had already done so when odd things attacked that odd town and eldritch monsters reared their ugly heads all over the news. Or, at the very least people had decided not to risk missing the last bus of the weekend.

On the bus ride after disaster the trees still looked normal. The pines still stood just as tall and unbroken on the day the kids left as they were when they arrived, and every day in between.

The bus ride after disaster and one arm was cold while the other was numb. The metallic side of the bus was a nice relief to the warm weather outside, but he was starting to get uncomfortable, despite the sweat running down his back. He didn't dare move away though, because on his other arm Mabel was passed out, mouth catching flies and drool dribbling onto his shoulder. He was sandwiched between a drool monster and an icy wall and he couldn't be happier.

The bus ride after disaster was long, and yet he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes and sleep like Mabel beside him. Every time his eyes slipped shut he saw another scene flashing before him, and he would jerk upright. Six arms, two mouths, three tongues. Fire. A prone form in a meadow. A golden statue. Colors only bees and art students should see. Shadowy outlines in smoke illuminated by fire. No, he wouldn't sleep.

The bus ride after disaster smelled funny. It smelled like exhaust, and sweat, and food long forgotten beneath crinkly cushions. The odd smell of normality. When he'd first stepped onto the bus, taking him into this wild adventure, he'd taken a deep breath of his summer and frowned. He'd turned to Mabel, who still looked overjoyed about the excitement of it all. He'd turned back to his parents, who were both smiling and waving at them, shouting out good wishes. His hands fidgeted, mourning the loss of his gameboy for a whole three months. He had wearily stepped onto the loud bus that would take him away from civilization for the summer.

Now he welcomed the smell. He'd take B.O. and fumes over smoke and misery any day. Overall he'd prefer the musky scent of rotting wood and super glue, festering in the muggy home of a man who was too cheap to invest in an AC unit.

The bus ride after disaster felt more like a dream than anything else. Any moment now it felt like he'd wake up for real, in a ditch somewhere, a monstrous pair of teeth, and spinning eightball eyes looming over him. Any moment now he'd wake up in a pyramid prison, scorch marks all along his body. Any moment now he'd awake and look around at tear stained faces asking for his sister. Or maybe, he wouldn't wake up at all. Maybe he'd fall asleep and that would be it. Maybe the bus would drop him off and all would be peaceful.

It felt far too calm, on the bus ride after disaster. He was tense and waiting. The roof would be ripped off, or the ground below them would turn into a bottomless pit. A high pitched voice he'll never be able to unhear will cackle. _Psych! Did ya miss me? It's funny how dumb you are, thinking_ that _would stop me! I'm a being of pure energy with no weakness!_

But now was not the time to think about that. Well, a large part of his brain argued that actually now was the perfect time to think about this as it could happen at any moment. He looked to the side. Mabel's cheeks were still rosy, her sweater still loud he was probably safe. But wait, what if it's the bus driver? Any moment now his head could spin one eighty as he ran the bus into the trees, giggling manically the whole time.

No, now is not the time to think about danger lurking around every corner. Nows the time to think about his sister. She's safe. She's happy. She got the big birthday party she wanted for the birthday that made them official teenagers. She got her brother, still safe and sound, coming home with her, and both her Grunkles safe and happy. Her friends were crying when she left, but they were safe, and happy.

She was damaged to, of course. Never mind all that is the name of the game, but deep in her mind she will never unsee, never unhear, never un-experience. They're all the same that way. Him, Mabel, Stan, Ford, Tad Strange. Everyone in Gravity Falls is now forever scarred. But they still had each other, and they could work through it together.

It was jarring, on the bus ride after disaster, as he watched the great pines shrink until there were no trees left, only open areas surrounding the highway. It felt wrong, leaving those huge trees behind. They had become a part of him, they had been there all summer shaping who he was. Now as he craned his neck around he saw watching that part of himself disappear beyond the horizon. So many memories were woven throughout those huge trunks, but those memories would be able to wait until he came again next year to retrieve them. Watching that part of his life fade was sad, but hopeful at the same time. He'd be back next year.

The world felt so big now. It was wide, open, with no trees to obstruct his view of the horizon. Before that openness had been the norm for him, and when he'd gone into the woods, he'd felt small, and cramped, like a fish too big for its tank. But now he was a goldfish released into the Pacific, entirely too small for his new world. During Weirdmageddon, that smallness, that bubble of containment had been their saving grace. He felt defenseless without it.

The deer disappeared, he noted absently. The deer had become such a constant in his life without his realizing, but now that they were gone he realized it. Before when the deer had disappeared it meant bad things, it meant death. It meant a dimensional rift had been torn, and any creature with any survival instinct would get out of Dodge. The deer were gone now.

He wiggled slightly, moved his cold arm to rest it against the window, supporting his head as he watched billboards whiz by. He looked at dinky souvenir shops, at the kinds of gas stations his parents would always tell them to be fast in. They made him miss his own little souvenir shop with disgusting public toilets.

"Hey, Mabes." he began wiggling his numb arm, wincing at the pins and needles dancing along the limb. "Wake up. I see civilization."

And indeed he did. The dinky little places had been cropping up along the road for hours, but now real signs of the city were appearing all around them. They drove past a Walmart. The first Walmart he'd seen all summer long.

"Wha?" Mabel sat up, her hair travel mussed, and her cheek baring the imprint of his sleeve. "We there yet, Bro-Bro?" she slurred, blinking hard to chase away the sleep.

"No, but look." he moved his still tingly arm to point out the window.

"McDonald's..." she gasped, her eyes lighting up as the golden arches whooshed by. "I want so many Frosties right now."

In their own odd version of twin ESP, their stomachs growled in unison. Then the silence of the bus ride after disaster was destroyed by to giggling children, who once they started laughing couldn't stop. It had been a while since they truly laughed.

"Your kitten sounds hungry, Bro-Bro." she giggled.

"Kitten?" he asked, clutching at his orange shirt. "Why?"

"Your tummy doesn't growl. It purrs." her face lit up as his fell, and another rumble filled the empty bus. "However, my tummy's a monster and it wants food!" she suddenly shouted, just as little volume control as always. "Mister Bus Driver, can you tell us how long it'll be till we get there?" she yelled across half the bus.

"We've got another hour still, if traffic continues to hold up like this." the man answered.

"Augh." Mabel lied back. "I see how it is. This is how I die. Starved to death on a bus! Dipper, tell my story." she flopped her arm over her eyes.

"Oh no! What ever shall I do with Waddles now!" Dipper smiled, going along with the joke.

"Feed me, I am too weak to do it myself." Mabel opened her mouth as wide as the rubber bands looping her back teeth together would allow, and her brother began popping M &Ms into her mouth.

"Wait, Waddles!" she jerked up straight, before devolving into hacking coughs as half chewed food slid down her throat. The pig was still right where she'd left him, asleep in the seat across the aisle, in the cracked synthetic leather seat, loving life.

She lunged across the aisle, a daring move in a moving vehicle, and snatched up Waddles, before returning to her place smushed up against her brother. "Waddles, how do you feel about going home?" she asked the barely awake pig. She got an exhausted oink for an answer, to which she started laughing, calling Waddles her little rascal.

"How do you feel about it?" she asked in a more serious voice, gazing out the window as a sign welcoming them to Piedmont whizzed by. She hugged Waddles tight.

"Going home?" he asked to check, before sitting back, staring out his window at the scenery as it slowly became more and more familiar. "I don't really know. I'm exited to be going home, and seeing Mom and Dad again, and I'm not gonna miss that mess, but... I'm gonna miss everyone." he looked down at the paper he had been clutching in his hand like a lifeline, and smiled sadly. He folded the letter and slid it back in the envelope, slipping the envelope into his backpack.

"I know what you mean." Mabel sighed softly. "I mean, I've missed California, and Mom and Dad, but the school year is gonna be so lonely without Candy and Grenda. Heck, I'm even gonna miss Pacifica." she traced designs in Waddles' pudge. "Oh! But I'll get to introduce Waddles to Cocoa! They'll be best friends, don't you see it?"

"Um..." Cocoa was the cat Mabel had gotten when they were nine. From the beginning Cocoa had hated Dipper and tolerated Mabel, and her patience had only gotten worse with age. Introducing the two pets was going to be... interesting. And that was after they introduced Waddles to their parents, who probably wouldn't be happy about their kids going on vacation and coming back with a pet, but oh well. They stopped the oddpocalypse, they deserved it.

"Piedmont," the bus driver said as the vehicle came to a jerking halt, the gentle hiss as the air breaks engaged. "I believe this is your stop, kiddos."

"It is!" Mabel called out happily as she gathered her bags, helping to kick some of Dipper's bags his way. "Thank you Mister Bus Driver!"

The two made their way to the door, Waddles weaving through their legs joyfully, before they stopped just before they reached the door.

"Mystery Twins forever?" Mabel asked.

"Mystery Twins forever." Dipper confirmed.

And then the technically teenagers tore down the steps, an launched into their parents' arms, tears streaming down their faces.


	2. The Hours After Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hours after disaster were stressful...
> 
> I was planning on this mainly being in chronological order starting after the bus ride, but this idea was to good!

The first hour after disaster was spent in a clearing in the middle of the woods. The man wearing Stan's face wore it more like a five year old, looking out at the world around him in wonder. He looked confused, and sad as everyone around him started crying. It seemed like they were mourning someone, this 'Grunkle Stan'. They were all acing like he should know them, and know whoever this 'Stanley' is, but he didn't. He didn't know anything.

He looked down at his hands in awe, like he was looking at them for the first time. _Six_. He tested his hands, balling them into fists. All his fingers responded except for the last one on either hand. He pulled off his gloves. _Why did he have pens shoved in his gloves_?

The clearing was pretty. There was a layer of green grass on the ground, with little flowers scattered around. He had never seen this place or anyplace before, but he somehow knew that it's not a common beauty.

Those people were still there, the little girl that had bounded up to him and plopped the odd hat on his head. The little boy that looked just like the little girl, standing next to her, comforting her, pulling his cap over his eyes. The man that had hugged him, calling him Stanley, calling him a hero. They were still in the clearing with him, waiting, but he didn't know what they were waiting for. He didn't know anything.

"We should probably change back now." the man in the suit that didn't seem right for him said, stepping forward.

"What, why?" he turned his head to the side, little hat just barely managing to stay on. Everyone else in the clearing looked even more heartbroken.

"Because those are my clothes. We traded in order to defeat Bill." the man was patient. He spoke slowly, like he was talking to two year old, but something in his tone said he was a scholar.

"Wait, so you have six fingers?" he asked, holding up the gloves by the extra finger.

"Yep," the man answered, holding out his hands to him, showing him all twelve digits.

"Who's Bill?" now the little boy was crying in addition to the little girl. "Why'd we have to get rid of him? Why was changing clothes part of that?"

"We needed to get rid of him because he was evil." the little boy said, still standing back with the girl. "He tried to rob your mind. He stole my body. He ripped a hole in the dimension."

"Yeesh, sounds like he's compensating for something." he grinned. "But why'd we have to change clothes to get rid of him?"

"Because we needed to trick him. He was very smart, but you were smarter." the scholarly man sat down to be on his level. "We needed him to enter one of our minds so we could wipe him off, but I have this metal plate in my head," _chung chung_ "and you had nothing in your head he wanted. So we traded clothes."

"Wow, was the dude face blind or something?" he laughed, but the scholar man's face fell.

"No, Stanley, it worked because we're twins. We're identical twins." the man looked at him with pleading eyes.

"You mean I look like that? Jeesh." he laughed but the other people in the clearing--were they his family?-- looked even sadder. Maybe someone had died. Maybe he was the dead one. The little girl turned around, the little boy not far behind. They sat on the ground, holding each other close.

"Okay." he said, shrugging off the big trench coat he was wearing. It's far too hot to be wearing that anyways.

The scholar man smiled sadly, and also took off his suit jacket.

The second hour after disaster was spent on a nature hike. The walk wasn't all that long, but it was beautiful, he noted as the family led him through the woods. The clothes he was wearing now felt much comfier, and familiar. He didn't know why, but they just felt right.

Not long into their walk they came across this decrepit shack. It looked like nature had taken a wrecking ball to the thing, and a giant monster had used it as a punching bag. At the same time, though, it looked exactly like the kind of place he'd like to live in.

And apparently it was his house, according to the little boy who had to knock the door down to get in. Was the little boy just that strong or was the wood just that rotten? How long had he been gone?

The inside also looked like the kind of place he'd like to live in, if it were a bit less destroyed. The carpets were the kind he liked, the decor around the room was nice, and the chair was perfectly comfy, broken in just the right amount.

The chair he sat down in was just large enough for him, but that didn't stop the little girl from squirming around and snuggling up next to him with her scrapbook. The little boy sat on the arm rest on the other side of him. The scholarly man stood looking over the girl's shoulder, the big man-child leaning over the little boy's shoulder.

They were flipping through the scrapbook with him, pointing out picture after picture of the two kids--in the same clothes they were currently wearing--and a person who wore the same outfit he was wearing with the scholarly man's face. That man was him, he knew, but he had no more emotional connection to these pictures than to the beat up vending machine in the lawn.

They were looking at him with such hopeful eyes. The little girl as she flipped through thick pages, telling the story behind each picture. The little boy as he gave additional information. The man-child as he looked at the picture. The scholar man as he watched the little kids.

But he didn't remember. These pictures meant nothing to him. No matter how guilty he felt for crushing these children's hearts, he didn't remember.

Then that pig jumped him and started licking his face like a freaking dog.

It was reflex, when he pushed the pig off him, yelling. But then that pig had a name. Waddles. Waddles has an owner. The little girl. Waddles had been won as a prize. At a fair. He'd hosted the fair. At this shack. It had been terrible. Crap kept breaking.

Soos. A name he recalled. A smiling face, round body. He saw him a lot. Soos was his employee. The Shack. It's not just a house, it's a tourist trap. He's run it for years now.

He sat back down in the chair. He's spent a long time in this chair, always with a beer in one hand the remote in the other. But one time he lost the remote. Pure horror.

Stan. That's a name. It's... his name, right? That's what the kids call him, and the scholarly man calls him Stanley.

Stan. That's also the scholarly man's name. But it's not Stan. It's more than just that. It's Stan...ford? Sixer. Poindexter. It's his nerd brother with the eternal sunburn. It's the name of the star child with the dumb twin brother. It's the little kid with too many fingers and not enough friends.

Mabel curled next to him on the couch. That's the little girl with the creative hands. And the bedazzled face. That's the little baby swaddled in pink cloth, with rosy cheeks and fluffy hair, making squeaky sounds. That's the little girl in search of her summer romance, armed with her grappling hook. That's his little niece.

Dipper leaned his head on Stan's shoulder, reaching out to point thing out in the pink book. Dipper's the nerd kid, like his own brother. Dipper's the one that's too curious, just like his own brother. He's the one who'd still be awake at one in the morning whenever Stan checked on the kids, with his nose buried in a mystery novel. He was the little baby with the birthmark that would surely give him grief, just like Stan's own brother.

They were the kids that stepped off the Speedy Beaver bus and into his life. They were the two little lives his nephew had trusted him with. He didn't remember the last time he had been trusted to do something more serious than unclogging the toilet.

The third hour after disaster was spent remembering. It was spent curled in the living room with his family, looking through scrapbooks and telling Stan stories. At one point Mabel had run up the stairs--a bad idea, bits of the Shack were falling at random--and she came back with a fishing hat, he name stitched on with poor needle point. The 'L' was backwards and falling off.

Stan remembered making that. It was at the beginning of the kids' stay. Stan knew he wasn't good at people, but he wanted to know his family. He knew Mabel made her own sweaters, and was very creative, so he tried to do something creative to match her. Bonding opportunity.

They had left with Soos to do some cool monster adventure that turned out as a disappointment. He was angry, at the time. He just tried to spend time with his family, it had ben so long. He wound up in the middle of the lake, floating in the Stan o' War, grumbling but ecstatic when they came back.

The Stan o' War. It was what he had named his dinky little fishing boat. It was also his childhood dream. To sail away from his boring Jersey life, where he was the dumb twin and his brother was the nerd twin with too many fingers.

He remembered the feeling like his foot had slipped on the stairs as he watched a puff of smoke rise from the perpetual motion device.

He remembered being pissed when a tourist gave him a baby goat instead of money after a tour--like, seriously? A goat?

He remembered lots of names were his. He went through them a lot. He'd get kicked out of a state, go to a foreign jail, stage a death. He just had to get enough money. He didn't remember why. Ford had changed the subject. Maybe he didn't want to remember.

He remembered finding that journal on his nephew. The gut wrenching feeling. This is how it starts, he knew. This is how disaster strikes, this is how another pair gets broken apart.

This was also how he got back with his brother. Doing stupid things with the journal that had gotten all this mess started in the first place, more than thirty years ago.

He told the kids the supernatural was fake. He told them it was dangerous. He knew they didn't listen. He tried to protect them. They were too much like him and his brother to stop because of a silly thing like danger.

Soos excused himself. Said he needs to be seeing to his Abuelita. He gave a bone crushing hug on his way out.

He remembered seeing little kid Soos. He remembered feeling sorry for that kid, and liking that kid. He gave a job to that little kid. He liked that kid. He's still a kid.

At one point somebody's stomach growled. The family started laughing. It seemed so normal. Nothing was wrong, just time for dinner. Time to eat, like everyday. Except everything is different now.

The fourth hour after disaster was dinner time. There were brown meat cans everywhere that had survived Weirdmageddon. Stan remembered preparing for the apocalypse. He remembered the journals he read making him gradually more paranoid the apocalypse was coming. He remembered getting extra concerned once he was in charge of two more lives.

They made a fire in the fireplace, not because it was cold but because it was getting dark and it made everything feel more homey. And they had no flashlights or candles. No one wanted to try and open any drawers in the kitchen yet, something might jump out or it might destroy the structurally unsound shack. They made spoons out of can tops.

They continued telling stories in the dinner circle. More lighthearted stories. The time Dipper's mosquito bites spelled out 'BEWARB'. The time Mabel's braces got stuck in the screen door, and they had to pry her off with a screwdriver while she screamed. The time they nearly blinded Stan with a rainbow. The time Mabel's friends scared Dipper enough to make him sleep outside.

In the fifth hour after disaster the events of the past five days caught up with everyone. They broke out a bunch of fluffy blankets, not because it was cold but because they needed the comfort. Ford and Stan lay down on the floor, as bookends with the younger twins and Waddles in the middle.

They didn't talk about what had happened to them in the past few days. As they stared up at the ceiling, with chunks falling out and letting the clear night sky shine in, they spoke about the future. They started planning for the twins' birthday party. It was gonna be the best birthday party this town's ever seen. The kids deserve it.

Dipper was the first one to fall asleep. Probably because he'd been the one sleeping the least in the past few days. He buried his face in his sister's hair, ignoring the prickly twigs alto nestled in there. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't distressed either. And that's good enough for now.

Mabel fell asleep next, her cheek pressed against her brother's forehead. She didn't look happy, but she looked content. She was holding her brother with one hand, cuddling Waddles with the other. She made cooing noises in her sleep. She's a kicker.

It was hard to tell who fell asleep first out of the Stan twins. But damn it if they weren't happy to be asleep on the floor in their home with their whole family together and safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a bunch for reading! If there's anything after disaster you'd like to see, make sure to tell me!


	3. The Days After Disaster

The days after disaster were spent rebuilding. Weirdmageddon had only lasted a few days, but it looked like the small town had been a war zone for years, or maybe just the epicenter of a big bomb.

All of the buildings that had literally stood up and walked away had returned to their appropriate locations, and don't get any of the townsfolk wrong, they grateful for that, and all the things that had been changed in a weirdness was back to normal, but that was the extent of the healing defeating Bill had done.

Every building was missing windows. It wasn't hard to figure out why, anything that hadn't shattered in the chaos had been broken by those not yet turned to stone, looking for food or shelter. The streets and insides of buildings had a fine dusting of glass that made walking without shoes hazardous at best.

The lack of food in the town was another thing everyone noticed right off the bat. The power had been off in the town for several days, so anything that needed to stay cold had gone long past bad. Nobody trusted any food that had been turned into not-food by a weirdness wave, cutting down the amount of edibles available to them.

They created a food bank, a place where they could gather all the food in one place, and keep track of it. Everyone unanimously decided Greasy's Diner would be the perfect place, and Lazy Susan was chosen to be in charge of all foodstuffs. Stan became the biggest provider of food, giving most of the brown meat he had scattered around his place, with the exception of just a few cans.

There were also refugee camps sprouting up all over the place. Clearings with tents set up in loose circles around garbage can fires. Pacifica somehow managed to get her parents to open their mansion's doors to the 'peasants'. The whole time the crummy townspeople were making their way into the mansion to get settled Preston and Priscilla were just muttering about getting good press. Preston especially needed it after declaring himself one of the horsemen of the apocalypse.

(They lost the mansion anyways, but they tried until the very end.)

The Corduroys took charge of the reconstruction effort. They were the main coordinators of the recovery, assigning people tasks, and under their jurisdiction repairs were going much faster than anyone had hoped. Everyday more people were able to move back into their homes.

McGucket also came out of the woodwork to help rebuild his home. Anyone who hadn't realized how brilliant he was before was forced to realize it now. He had regained most of his sanity, alarming many townsfolk, and was using his brains and gadgets to streamline the process of getting life back to normal.

The mentality of the town was still missing. Everyone was helping rebuild, but the smiley, easy going atmosphere of the town was gone. Everyone kept their heads down, eyes scanning their surrounding. People stuck to places where they could duck for cover if necessary.

Everyone certainly acted like the town had been the site of a war. Everyone had lost someone, even if the person they lost was standing right beside them. Something about seeing your loved ones get turned to stone and carried away by eye bats makes a person real twitchy.

No one trusted the sky. Everyone glared at it like any moment now it may regurgitate monsters that should stay in whatever hell they came from. It wasn't too irrational a fear, the sky had done it once before, what's to say it wont do it again?

By the second day after disaster, the town was mostly rebuilt. More rebuilt than anyone had expected they'd reach, at least. The kids could walk around this town, and it felt like a place that had seen disaster, from the ragged buildings, to the haggard look on people's faces. But it looked like a place that had seen disaster longer than two measly days ago. A huge part of the progress was probably because the town as a whole refused to sleep, from frail old ladies to itty-bitty babies. 

The twins were doing the work the adults had assigned to the town children, collecting anything they could use to aid in rebuilding. That's when she broke down.

There was a loud cracking noise, and a small meep. Dipper turned to find Mabel standing in a pile of shattered glass, with her hands covering her mouth and her eyes shining with tears. She sniffled, and her shoulders heaved as she began to let out chocked sobs.

"I'm sorry." she whimpered pathetically, not doing anything to wipe the rivers down her face. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, we've got plenty of stuff." Dipper heaved his backpack on his back with a huff. "Just be careful, there's a lot of glass." he began moving some of the larger pieces to the sides of the dirt road they were walking down.

"N-not about the glass!" she shrieked, making Dipper's head jerk up. "I-I ruined summer! All-all because I never stopped to let you talk, and I ran into the woods like-like a wimp, and I took the wrong bag like an idiot." she squeezed her eyes tight. "No-no wonder you'd rather stay with Ford than me."

Dipper stood stock still, staring at his bawling sister.

"You're not stupid." he finally said. "You're really smart. You make all these wonderful sweaters without looking at patterns, you have the good ideas no one would think of. Growing your fist to break a wall? That was brilliant." he grabbed her hand. "You're smart."

"No I'm not, not like you or Ford. I'm the dumb twin." she rubbed her sweater clad arm at her face. "I got tricked by Bill for more of a summer break, do you know how stupid that is? It's like Pacifica said, I'm just a dumb little kid."

"You're not just a dumb little kid. You're creative, and that's solved far more problems than it's created." he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she looked away. "And getting tricked by Bill? I've done that. Ford too. Stop beating yourself up over it. And the dumb one? Like heck. You can talk to people no problem, and say the right thing, too. Besides you're taller than me, Alpha Twin."

"You-you're just saying that." she was smiling, just a tad.

"No I'm not. You're the best sister in the whole world." he brought her into a big hug, and she cried into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I wigged out on you." she wiped a hand under her eyes when she pulled back. "But, thanks. I needed that."

"Anytime." Dipper grabbed her hand again.

"Race you to McGucket's place!" she suddenly shrieked, and dropped his hand, sprinting through streets littered with debris.

"Hey! No fair! I wasn't ready!" he hiked up his backpack more and took off after her.

 

The third day after disaster, and their last day in Gravity Falls, they took a visit.

He was looking right at them. He was mocking them.

He seemed to be cackling, as he stared into them. He seemed to be laughing at their pain.

"This is all that's left of him?" Mabel asked, pressed against Ford's leg.

"This is it." the man agreed.

The meadow was sunny, little flowers grinned at them from all angles. The soft grass reached to mid shin. The leaves swung gently in the calm wind,cooling the day to acceptable temperatures. It was a nice day, for the twins' birthday. It was too good a day for the thing they were visiting.

He was half buried in the dirt. Probably from the fall from the Fearamid, Ford had said. Probably from Hell trying to reclaim its spawn, Stan had said.

Grass was already starting to curl up around him. Maybe the grass hated him as much as anything else, and was trying to break down the solid rock with its roots. Grass can do that, Mabel claimed in defence of her theory, Teacher said so.

Ford had agreed with their teacher. Praised Mabel's knowledge. Patted her head. She beamed like the sun.

Stan said that he didn't care what was trying to eat him, nature or Gompers, he just wanted him gone.

Why stone? Mabel had asked, venturing out from where she had hidden behind her Grunkles' legs. She stared at the reason for all their suffering with wide eyes.

I don't know, Ford had said to her, grasping her shoulder. Pulling her closer to him.

I don't care. Stan had grouched out, kicking clods of dirt at the thing. I'm just glad that's done with.

Grunkle Ford, he's staring at me. Dipper cowered behind his Grunkle's legs. Hiding back there he felt safe. Neither Ford or Stan had ever let anything bad happen to him or his sister. He envied his sister's bravery to be standing in front of the men.

I know m'boy, Ford agreed, letting apprehension enter his voice. He's looking at me too.

He's calling me stupid. Dipper whined.

He's calling me gullible. Ford admitted.

He's calling me a baby. Mabel pouted.

He's calling me fat. Stan poked at his belly.

With his hand extended, he looked ready to make a deal. No one said this, but they were all thinking it. He was waiting for the next poor sap to wander into his trap. He was waiting for some idiot to walk by and grab his hand for the photo op. He was waiting for some little kid who didn't know better to wander by and hold his hand. He was waiting.

Geometry this year is going to suck. Mabel looked disappointed. She had been up to the challenge of doing higher maths before. Now she wasn't up to the challenge of not breaking down in tears over her math homework. And not just because it's hard.

I'm sure you'll be fine. Ford had told her, rubbing her shoulder gently. Dipper ventured out to stand in front of Stan.

All those shapes never did me any good. Stan growled. Only brought me loads of heartache.

Let's go home. Ford said, and no one argued with him.

They walked home, everyone holding onto everyone. No one wanted to visit the statue, but it felt like something they had to do before the younger two left for Piedmont.

He watched them the whole way back to the Shack


	4. Dinner Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For their first night home after disaster, a very special dinner.

The first thing that the family did once the air breaks had disengaged and the smelly Speedy-Beaver had driven off, was to address the elephant in the room.

Or rather, the pig making a nuisance of himself around everyone's legs.

“Um...” Anna began, looking at the animal, her children, and her husband. Mark just shrugged. “Who's the pig?”

“This is Waddles!” Mabel declared proudly, picking up the lump of fat and jiggling him around.

Anna just smiled a little. It has a name.

“We can't keep a pig.” Mark said bluntly, prompting Anna to crush his foot under her cowboy boot.

Mabel's eyes widened, and her grip on Waddles tightened, the pig squealing and squirming in her iron grip. “What do you mean we can't keep Waddles?” she gnawed on her lower lip.

“I think he meant, where are we going to keep a pi—Waddles?”Anna asked calmly, acting as the diffuser. “I'm not sure we have enough space to keep him comfy at home.”

“Of course we do! He doesn't need a lot of space! I bet he would be happy in a little pen for the rest of his life as long as he got lots of love!” Mabel bounced on her toes, tears welling up in glossy eyes. “And you don't have to worry about feeding him, he'll eat almost anything!”

“Y-Yeah!” Dipper chimed in. “We got him to eat bacon once!”

“That's disgusting.” Mark got his foot crunched again.

Anna looked at her daughter, with her panicked face. Her son with his determined face. Her husband's still disgusted face. The pig's beady eyes that actually looked pretty cute. And beggy. How was a pig managing freaking puppy eyes in perfect unison with Mabel?

“Fine.” she collapsed, patting the pig on the head. Mark squawked, but she gave him a _look_ that quieted him pretty quick.

“Let's get loaded in the car, then.” Mark spoke, leaning back on his heels with his hands in his pockets. He grabbed the straps of some of Mabel's bags, while Anna took hold of some of Dipper's, before the four trekked out to the minivan in the bus stop parking lot, Mabel cooing at Waddles the whole time.

For the twins, climbing into the grey minivan felt disturbingly normal, after a summer of abnormality, and it signaled an official end to the weirdness that had started that June. Mabel hopped in on the left side of the car, Dipper on the right. They placed their backpacks with their feet. Together they heaved at the center console to make room for Waddles while their parents loaded their luggage in the back.

“So, how was your summer?” Anna asked in an almost huffing way as she plopped herself into the passenger seat, short hair flying in a halo around her head. She turned to her kids, smile on her face.

Mark put the car into reverse, and also turned to look at the kids, but he was a bit more focused on driving.

There was a moment of silence. There was a glance between the kids in the backseat. There was a whole conversation in a single glance thrown over a pigs head.

“It was amazing!” both called out, Mabel louder than Dipper, but both of them with equal amounts of excitement.

“How so? I want details.” Anna encouraged with a big grin on her face.

“I got my braces stuck in a screen door!” Mabel declared. “And I won Waddles at the fair Grunkle Stan had! And I made _tons_ of friends and we had lots of sleepovers. Did you know Stan is very makeup-able?” she babbled on without stopping for a breath once.

“The woods were tons of fun to explore.” Dipper gave his two cents. “They also had a ton of mystery books I hadn't read before!”

“Only you would go on summer vacation and be exited about the array of books the town had.” Mark said affectionately, looking to his son in the rear view mirror.

“Augh! He was reading those all the time, I didn't get any sleep!” Mabel whined without really complaining.

“Pen thing?” Anna asked.

“Pen thing.” Mabel confirmed, before both ladies looked to the guys next to them. “It's like he eats those things!” she giggled.

“I don't eat pens!” Dipper defended himself. So what if the pens so happened to break in his mouth, giving him blue-black lips for a day or two, that's not the same as eating them.

“Speaking of eating...” Mabel changed the subject. “What's on the grill, I _will_ die soon if I don't eat soon.”

“That's a surprise.” Anna informed with a grin, placing a finger to her lips.

Within the second both children were pressed against the windows of the car, carefully surveying their route for hints, and the adults in the front seat began chuckling.

“We're going home first, kiddos.” Mark told them, still laughing as he turned to the entrance of their neighborhood. Then his nose crinkled up. “Ugh, skunk!”

“Hah! You sure that's not Dip-Dots? He might have showered once this whole summer!” Mabel teased, lying down on top of Waddles who had taken to gnawing on her skirt. She poked at Dipper's arm in time to Waddles' panicked squealing.

“What? No!” he shrieked in his little girl voice.

“You're kidding right?” Mark looked in the mirror, mouth dropped low. He looked like he had stopped breathing.

“Mabel, stop teasing your brother.” Anna commented. She wavered a bit, though.

Mabel nodded gravely. “I only saw him bathe once, and that was when Candy, Grenda and I jumped him, and shoved him into a tub of water.” she looked at a far away nothing with a deep intensity. “The water turned black. The tub never returned to it's original color.”

“Okay, that tub was black to start with, the water turned _brown_ and I showered at least!” Dipper countered.

“Standing outside in the rain doesn't count, Bro-Bro.” Mabel grinned big enough that the nubby things on the ends of her braces dug into the corners of her mouth. He opened his mouth again. “Baby wipes don't either.” he turned to look out the car window.

No one spoke for a moment.

“Well, we're home.” Mark declared, pulling into the garage. “But I want showers before dinner.”

“Dipper first.” Anna added with a smirk. When her son made a loud noise of protest. “Sorry, Bud, but the facts point to you growing some lichen in your hair.”

“I'm not growing anything in my hair!” he protested.

“Like you didn't try!” Mabel shouted back, pressing the button to open her car door. “Race you!” she shouted, taking off towards the house door, with Waddles following close behind. Dipper squawked and fumbled a bit before following. Mabel's victory cheer rang through the whole house.

“No baths the whole summer?” Mark asked as they went around back to retrieve the kids' bags.

“I'm sure they were kidding.” Anna assured him. “But, I wouldn't put it past Uncle Stan to be cheap enough to skimp on showers to save a dime.” she giggled as Mark's eyes fell from behind thick frames.

The twins raced upstairs, giggling and shouting. Being home was an odd experience. It wasn't that the house was unfamiliar, it was the home they had grown up in, they knew every nook and cranny by heart. It was so familiar, and safe. Safety was a different thing, after the last couple of days.

But no one wanted to hover around home right now. It's food time, so the sooner they get in and out the sooner they get food.

“Mabes, did you even comb your hair?” Mark asked as his daughter joined them downstairs, all waiting to load up the car to go eat.

“Does it matter, Dad? There's food on the line, I am about to starve to death!” she held up her arms and flopped onto the armchair, crushing Dipper in the process.

“A bit, yeah.” Mark rubbed her head. “You look like you've been living in the streets for a few days.” he chuckled, meaning it to be a joke.

It wasn't taken as a joke, though. Dipper and Mabel's smiles fell. They looked at each other. They looked distressed. Their hands twined together. They gnawed on their lips. A panicked flash went through their eyes.

“Let's give you the illusion of combed hair.” Anna stepped in, s behind the couch Mabel was curled up in, tugging her so that she could play with her hair.

“Okay.” she huffed, letting her mom manhandle her hair into a braid, squished next to her brother so tightly she couldn't really do much else.

“Alrighty, there.” Anna wiped her hands on her pants, before placing them on her hips. “Now who wants to go FOOD!”

“WHOO! Yes! Food!” Mabel shouted, throwing up her arms. She tried to stand, only to realize she was so squished that she couldn't stand.

Both kids in the seat started squawking, trying to stand with Anna cackling behind them. Mark stood up, and grabbed their hands, pulling them out of the seat, Anna pushing from behind. They fell out of the chair in a pile of giggles.

Mabel scrambled up first, taking off to the garage, Dipper close on her heels. Anna and Mark followed behind them, at a more normal pace.

“DAAAAAAD unlock the door!” Mabel shouted from inside the garage, leaning hard on the door handle.

“You're gonna break it!” Dipper called back to her over the top of the car. She learned herself that it was a bad idea to cling to the handle when the car door did open, flinging her to the floor.

They scrambled into their seats, bouncing where they sat. They shut their car doors, having a race to see who's closed first. Their parents were doing lots of last minute things inside that were taking a while.

“So where do you think we're going?” Mabel asked, bouncing her legs up and down.

“I don't know.” Dipper said. “I hope it's that BBQ place—ya know, the one with the turtles?”

“Oh yea, with that huge rib thingy? On top of the jukebox with the swirly colors?” Mabel agreed. “I could really go for some vanilla bean...” she trailed off, patting her tummy.

Then the lights went dark. That's how cars work, the lights turn on when you get in, then they turn off after a certain amount of time. It's normal.

But the garage door was shut. There was no light. At all.

Both let out _eeps_ in unison, reaching across the center seat to grab each other tight. They shut their eyes, falling into a new darkness. They whipped their eyes open again, not wanting to watch the movie behind their eyelids.

Then the door opened, and their parents came in with a rush of light. Mabel uncurled from her little ball, Dipper following a moment after. They didn't drop hands.

“What's with you two sillies?” Anna asked, sliding into the car herself.

“The lights scared us.” Mabel said, shakily, still recovering from the startle.

“Hah, silly girl. You know the lights go off.” Anna laughed.

“Yeah, just forgot about that, I guess.” Dipper rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey Mom, what's with the bag?” Mabel asked, standing to lean over her mom's shoulder at the same time her dad starting backing the car out of the garage.

“MABEL! Seat belts! Holy...” Mark shouted, stomping on the breaks, sending Mabel flying into the front seat. Dipper discreetly buckled himself in.

Mabel laid in her mom's lap for a second, stunned, before reaching out for the bag.

“Nope, Girlie.” Anna snatched Mabel's hands before they reached the bag. “That's a surprise, now you go back to your seat and buckle up, buttercup!”

Mabel did, grumbling as she strapped herself in, rubbing at her forehead.

“So, where we going?” Dipper asked as they reached the main road.

“Hey, it's a surprise, I already told you that.” Anna turned in her seat, smiling at the backseat. “You're just gonna have to wait and see.”

“But Mom,” Mabel whined. “The anticipation is half the fun.” 

“You are anticipating it.” Mark said with a smile in his voice. “You just don't know what it is.” Mabel groaned, slumping down in her seat and exclaiming that _that's not the point_.

“Well, let's think of this as a mystery then.” Anna suggested, leaning back in her seat, watching the road as they pulled out onto the freeway. “And whoever guesses where we're going first gets to pick an appetizer.”

“We're going to Hot Daddy's!” Mabel declared.

“It's HapDotties, and no.” Mark commented from the driver seat.

“Well, I guessed first, so I get to pick the appetizer.” Mabel leaned back in her seat, sticking her nose in the air.

“Okay, correction.” Anna placed a hand over her eyes. “First one to _correctly_ guess where we're going.” On the list of things bad about sending the kids to their conman uncle over the summer...

“Poop sticks.” Mabel slumped in her seat, crossing her arms and pouting, Dipper patting her arm with a small grin.

“So, you kiddos got any memorable stories? This is gonna be a kinda long car ride.” then Anna jolted, like she'd said more than she planned on. “And that's the only hint you're gonna get.”

“We nearly blinded Stan with a rainbow!” Mabel declared, recovering from her failed con attempt.

“Whoa, girlie, how'd that happen?” Anna turned her head, looking at Mabel's huge grin.

“Well, we were doing a survey of everyone on town's favorite color, and Stan said he didn't like any colors, so obviously the next step was to shine a rainbow through his office window.” she shook her head and rolled her eyes in a way that just screamed 'duh'.

“Obviously.” Mark snorted.

“Oh! And Candy and Grenda spent the night a couple of times! That was really fun.” Mabel giggled.

“That was not fun.” Dipper countered.

“Whaddaya mean?” Mabel looked scandalized. “That was amazing, we did makeovers, and play boardgames all night.” she began to list.

“No. I slept outside. A wolverine used me as a chew toy.” Dipper countered.

“Oh, you're just being dramatic.” Mabel waved him off.

Mark and Anna merely laughed. Their kids are so imaginative.

When the well of summer tales ran dry, they switched to playing Eye Spy on the freeway surrounded by fields and pathetically small trees.

“Oh!” Mabel hooted out, about half an hour into their drive. “We're going to that magical time place, right?”

“One appetizer to the lovely lady!” Anna called out, holding up her arms. “And it's Magic Time Machine, Hun.” she corrected with a soft smile.

“Ha, I'm the _winner_ ,” Mabel giggled, bopping Dipper's arm with her head. She placed her fingers on either side of her wide smile, emphasizing her dimples.

“Oh, hush up you.” Dipper nudged her head off his arms, laughing along with her, and the rest of the car.

Another fifteen minutes or so, and they were in front of the wacky store front. It was a fairly simple white wood face, with a rainbow neon sign declaring it the Magic Time Machine. Painted along the sides were huge blades of grass, interspersed with shots of fairies, and space.

The car slid into a parking space, and came to a jerking halt as they hit the curb a little bit. Mabel raced to hit the button to open her door before the car was fully stopped, triggering an angry alarm her way.

“Mabes, at least wait until the car is stopped, and off.” Mark scolded, pulling his keys from the ignition.

“But, _Dad_ , it's Magic Time Machine!!” Mabel whined, hopping out of her now open door, wobbling on her feet a bit. “ _Magic Time Machine_ ,” she repeated, shaking her fists.  
“I know dear, just, _please_ don't jump from the moving car.” Mark joked back, placing a hand on her head. She shrunk down with a chuckle. They walked across the parking lot on wobbly legs, Anna still toting her huge bag.

The inside of the Magic Time Machine was dark, and green. Not the lively green of the woods, but a deep, emerald color. There was deep green drapery, and carpet, with wine red seats scattered around, chestnut wood adding a bit of warm color to the lobby.

Dipper and Mabel bolted for a green-leather seat immediately through the door, struggling to see who could get the most space while their parents checked in. Once they had gotten their names on the list, they sat down on a bench across from the kids.

“So, was this worth it?” Anna asked, leaning forward and resting her face in her hand.

“Yes! Totally! This is amazing!” Mabel nearly shrieked, kicking her legs.

They were only waiting for a couple of minutes before a table was ready for them, and they were led into a space capsule by a man in tights.

“Whoa,” Mabel and Dipper both gasped as they trudged into the circle booth on their knees. There were no lights inside the capsule, but the interior was painted a deep blue, with glow in the dark galaxies scattered at random.

The man in tights passed out their menus, nodded at them with a smile and left.

“So, you having fun?” Mark asked, scanning the menu quick, even through he knew what they'd get already.

“Yes, this place is amazing.” Dipper responded, looking up at the stars. They were in no way accurate, but fun to look at anyways.

“The art in the place is always so beautiful.” Mabel agreed.

“Well, little winner, what are you gonna pick for your appetizer?” Anna asked, forgoing the menu, and leaning her elbows on the table.

“ _Calamari_!” she raised her arms above her head, and kicked her legs, managing to catch every one of her family's legs in the process.

“Well I hear shouts for calamari,” a new voice entered the conversation, a young woman in a baby blue dress, with a white apron stood hunched in the entry way to their capsule. There was a man with a big green hat and crazy hair standing behind her.

“Hello, I'm Alice, and the Mad Hatter and I will be serving you all today. Is this your first time dining with us at the Magic Time Machine?” she said with a big grin, and the man behind waving, popping up so that his head was resting on her shoulder, waggling his mad eyebrows madly.

“Not at all.” Anna piped up, eyes widening as she nodded.

“Oh, experienced customers, always a pleasure. Thank you for coming back to dine with us.” she leaned back in her shiny black shoes, giggling a little.

“Yes, you all have less questions which means less work for us!” the Mad Hatter chimed in, his voice going from a high pitch to a low pitch rapidly.

“Oh, hush up you.” Alice—in no way at all affiliated with Disney, by the way—lightly smacked her partner “So, I know yall have hankering for some calamari, but first I assume you would like something to drink?”

“I want the green magic potion!” Mabel shouted before anyone else could get a word in.

“Poison for the little lady!” Mad Hatter shrieked, raising a finger up as Alice quickly jotted things down on her notepad, which was disguised as a book.

“I'll have blue potion.” Dipper chimed in a bit quieter, but also vibrating from exitement.

“Alrighty,” Alice scribbled with her quill pen, a giggle on her lips.

“Diet Coke,” said Anna.

“Diet Coke,” said Mark.

“You two are so unoriginal!” Mad Hatter exclaimed, bouncing up on his toes.

“Mad, don't insult the good people.” Alice chided gently. “Well, as I'm sure you know, you may visit the car while we're away getting your drink orders in.” she smiled, and turned to bounce away, flouncing her skirt with her hands. The Mad Hatter followed her, seemingly unable to walk in a straight line.

The car, or the salad bar wasn't too far away. Actually, they nearly tripped on the car getting out of their capsule. It was your standard salad bar, with all the normal salad toppings, and a few not as standard foods. None of the family loaded their plates too high, they all saved room for the main event.

They got back to their seats, now munching on their leafies. The servers managed to come back while every one of them hag their mouths full of food, but they got straight to work, placing the potions with dry ice steam flowing over on the table first, then the diet Cokes, and finally the calamari.

“Hope you all enjoy!” Alice beamed, and turned to skip away, Mad Hatter following in leaping bounds.

“You like your magic potions?” Mark asked, waving his fingers mysteriously.

“Always.” Dipper answered, and Mabel was too busy slurping on her silly straw to say anything.

The calamari disappeared in no time at all, every single person attacking it with abandon.

“So, what do you two want for the main dish.” Anna asked.

Mabel and Dipper looked at each other for a moment, wondering if their parents were lying. Then Mabel grinned, and began rhythmically panting on the table and chanting to the beat.

“Orgy! Orgy! Orgy! Orgy!”

Dipper smiled and chimed in, pounding the table just as hard as she was. The glasses and silverware was rattling.

“Orgy! Orgy! Orgy!”

Then a new voice joined in. they looked up to the doorway to the capsule, seeing Alice and Mad Hatter standing there with big grins spread across their faces. Mad Hatter was waving his arms wildly, and chanting along with them. When everyone stopping chanting, Mad Hatter trailed off, looking confused.

“I thought we were chanting?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“That's over now.” Mabel informed gravely.

“Oh. Sorry.” he replied, not at all embarrassed.

“Well, I assume that the Roman Orgy is in order.” Alice grinned, dimples forming in her unnaturally red cheeks.

“So we are.” Mark smiled.

“Lovely!” Alice beamed, dragging Mad Hatter off as he resumed his chant of 'orgy! Orgy!'

“So I've heard a couple of names thrown around in your stories. Grendy?” Mark asked, the last name coming out with a sly smile.

“No, Dad, Candy and Grenda.” Mabel corrected heavily. “I met them at a party Stan hosted. Grenda has this neat lizard!”

“Stan had a party?” Anna balked. “That sounds nothing like him.”  
“Entry was free.” Dipper added. “Leaving was like, fifteen bucks or something.” he smiled a little.

“ _That_ sounds a bit more like Stan.” Anna leaned back, nodding.

“Soos worked the soundboard at that party.” Mabel reminisced.

“He was pretty good at it too.” Dipper added. “He liked playing with all the sounds. And he kept switching up the songs randomly. I think he just did it whenever he got bored.”

“Soos?” Mark asked.

“He's the Shack's handyman.” Mabel explained very matter-of-factly. “He was almost always at the Shack. He's awesome.”

“He is?”

“Yup.”

“He's kinda like a teddy bear.” Dipper added. “Very soft and happy to please.”

“By soft he means tubby, by the way.” Mabel added. “More to love!”

“Oh, he sounds wonderful.” Anna clapped her hands.

Then the kitchen started screaming, 'Orgy! Orgy!' over and over again, as a whole line of servers in fantastical costumes came out, each carrying a dish loaded with food.

It was a ridiculous amount of food. There was a huge dish of ribs, another of pork, another of brisket, and a whole bowl of fruits. Two whole bowls of fruits.

“Enjoy.” the servers chorused, walking away, still chanting.

Unlike the calamari, the food did not disappear instantly. The food actually hardly disappeared at all. Well, actually they ate like half of the epically sized meal. It was just so huge that eating half of the food, left a huge pile of food still on the plates.

“I don't think I'm gonna move. Ever again.” Mabel groaned, sliding down in her seat.

“Agreed.” Dipper joined her.

“Not even to open your presents?” Anna asked, reaching into her bag.

Mabel was instantly revived, popping up in her seat. “Presents?” she asked quickly. Dipper slid up beside her slowly.

Anna slid two wrapped bundles across the table. The pink sparkly one came to a rest in front of Mabel, the blue one in front of Dipper.

Both tore into them, duh, birthday presents.

An envelope came out of Mabel's gift, she set it aside for later. Her focus was on the book. 1111 More Uses For Yarn! Declared the glittery title. Her eyes matched the glimmering cover.

“And check the envelope.” Mark prompted.

Mabel obeyed, roughly tearing at the seal before realizing it was not sealed.

“Glow in the dark glitter-yarn waiting at home...” she read off, gaping like a fish. Then she just screamed for a couple seconds. “Whew, sorry, needed to get that out.” she shook her hands, grinning wider than her face. Her whole body was shaking again. She screamed again. “Didn't get it all out the first time.”

“I couldn't wrap the yarn,” Anna apologized.

“No, anticipation is half the treat.” she breathed.

“Alrighty, DipDots, your turn.” Mark prompted.

It was a journal. A journal with fancy bindings.

“Stan said you were always either reading or writing, so we thought, hey, a place to write!” Anna smiled big, twirling her hands under the table.

Then Dipper pulled out another item. A pack of edible-ink pens, with caps, not the pushy bits at the end.

“Oh, come on.” he argued, but then broke out laughing, along with everyone else.

“We can't have you getting ink poisoning, Kiddo.” Mark slung his arm around Dipper's shoulder, ruffling his hair.

“I don't eat _that_ many pens.” he protested, leaning into the hug anyways.

Paying and leaving the restaurant happened pretty quickly after that, but not before the servers complained that they weren't informed of a birthday, especially a double birthday.

The car ride home, though about an hour long also passed quickly, both the twins engulfed in food comas, while the parents spoke in hushed tones from the front of the car. The next thing Dipper knew, he was in someone's arms, then in bed.

Then awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap! Sorry this took so long to write, about midway through my computer wonked out and I lost all progress.But now I'm back from the dead!
> 
> This chapter was originally gonna be a lot longer, but then I realized it was pretty huge already, and I was at a natural stopping point.
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter won't take like, a month to come out!


	5. Night & Morning

The last time he'd slept alone wasn't a good experience. Ever since Weirdmageddon, the two sets of Pines twins had slept in a pile of blankets on the TV room floor. Before then, the only time Dipper remembered sleeping was when he was alone, under a pile of rubble and inside a refrigerator. Whereas normally he'd fall asleep to a giggly late night conversation with Mabel, all he had was a macabre lullaby of fire and screams and silence.

Technically one could say he'd been sleeping under the stars then, as he was roughin' it in a back alley with no roof over his head, but he was buried under too much rubble, and his eyes were squeezed to tightly shut to see anything. Now he was sleeping under stars in a different sense, glow in the dark plastic scattered across his ceiling. He'd gotten those stick-on stars for his tenth birthday, while Mabel had gotten her first batch of edible glitter. The two had spent all night getting hyped on shiny sugar and jumping on every surface they could to decorate Dipper's room. They had been very precise with where they put the stars, and so many constellations shimmered above his head as he tried to go to sleep.

Rolling around in bed didn't help at all, it only seemed to make him even more awake. He tried laying still on one side, but the screen of his computer—gone dark and in screen-save mode, but still bright in the dark room—reminded him a bit too much of a giant eye, a spotlight singling him out.

The other side was no use either, the clock tick-tocking away on his nightstand seemed to be mocking him. So he resigned himself to staring at the ceiling, at the stars, trying to shove his eyes closed and force himself to go to sleep, but the harder he pushed the more awake he felt.

So he just laid there with his eyes closed, hoping to trick himself into thinking he was asleep, when there was a small whining noise as light flooded his room.

There was the silhouette of a large figure in the doorway, backlit by the bright hall. It was breathing in an irregular pattern through snotty nostrils. The creature, which was really only a head of brown hair and wide eyes swaddled in a fluffy pink blanket crept closer to him.

“Dipper?” Mabel whispered, as if afraid to wake him. “You awake? I can't sleep.”

“Me neither.” He said, rolling over to face her better.

“Can I sleep with you?” she asked.

Dipper just scooted to the very edge of his twin sized bed, pulling the dark blue covers back a bit as an invitation that Mabel quickly took, crawling under his blanket with him.

“I'm afraid to go to sleep.” She admitted. “I'm afraid I'll wake up still in the bubble, and this is all a dream.”

“It's not.” he murmured back. He hesitated a bit, before responding. “I'm afraid to fall asleep too. Something's gonna jump out and snatch me.”

They didn't talk any more after that. They just curled up together, and just knowing that they were both there, and that they were fine was enough to calm both of their nerves. Slowly, they drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, Mark, isn't this just the cutest thing you've seen in your whole life?” Anna whispered as she opened the door to Dipper's room and peered through the crack. She was wearing a spaghetti-strap tank top that left her bra straps clearly visible, and a pair of green plaid pajama bottoms.

“It is pretty darn adorable.” He agreed, pulling out his phone to snap a picture. He was already dressed for the day, he'd have to leave for his job at Dall as soon as the kids were gone. Then Anna burst into the serene scene of children asleep like a lion of a pack of gazelles. Loud and vicious.

“Hey kids! Wake up!” she violently flickered the light on the wall on and off, causing the two curled up on the bed to groan and curl into each other even tighter in search of shade.

“Ten more minutes.” Said Mabel as she waved a hand at them.

“None of that!” Anna stalked across the room, leaving the light on. “Time to get up for your first day of school!” And she yanked the blanket off the bed.

“School can wait.” Mabel replied, being more coherent than Dipper who was just groaning. “Sleepy time now.”

“Come on.” Mark said as he stood at the foot of the bed. “Wake up!” he yelled playfully, grabbing both corners of the mattress and shaking the whole thing in big heaves. “Time for school!”

“Okay, okay, we're up!” Dipper shouted as he came all the way awake.

“Good.” Anna poked him on the head before doing the same to Mabel. “Now you two have ten minutes to be at the kitchen table, or it's cold breakfast and running to the bus for you!” she declared with one finger and her nose in the air.

Mabel would never take the threat of cold breakfast lightly, as she knew all too well that breakfast that was to be served cold was placed in the fridge until the owner could retrieve it. She jumped off the bed and dashed down the hall, her door slamming shut.

Dipper didn't go through such theatrics, just pulling on a clean T-shirt and shorts, before shoving a composition book in his backpack and making his way downstairs, leaving his backpack at the door. He moseyed his way through the fancy dining room that was only used for boardgames and into the kitchen, where the table was set with waffles. The left chair had a plate of waffles coated in a generous amount of maple syrup, while the right chair had a mass that was more chocolate syrup and sprinkles than waffle. The toaster popped up with a Dismey jingle, revealing only slightly burned slices of bread.

So Dipper sat at his seat on the left and began eating as his sister's elephant steps took the journey down the stairs and to the front door, and finally she careened into her seat on the right.

“Aren't you exited?” Mabel asked as soon as she was done shoving a generous amount of breakfast in her face. “Our first day of eight grade. We are the kings of the school!” in addition to rainbow sprinkles, her food gained a layer of half chewed waffle-chocolate-sprinkle mush.

Dipper nodded, swallowed his lump of food, and agreed. “We can go anywhere before class and during advisory.”

“You're just gonna go to the library.” Mabel waved her fork at him with a smile curled on her face.

“And you're just gonna go to the open art studio.” he countered, the same smile on his face.

Both twins pointed at each other with forks and finger guns. “Predictable.” they chimed in perfect unison, before laughing and spraying the whole table with food matter.

“Ah, yes, my predictable little munchkins.” Anna entered the kitchen, now fully dressed for her job as a librarian in a hot pink blouse and a blue skirt with running shoes. She wrapped an arm around each of her kids' necks and plopped sloppy kisses on their heads.

She grabbed the toast that had been forgotten and smothered it in warm butter, before adding a heaving dusting of cinnamon and sugar. “Ready to rule the school?” she asked as she hopped up on the counter and swung her legs as she ate. Chairs are for children. She's a grown adult who can eat wherever she darn well pleases.

“ _YESSSSSS_.” Mabel hissed, holding up her hands like an evil villain. “The baby sixth graders shall tremble before me, the god of destruction.”

“Naturally.” Anna mumbled around a mound of toast. “Oh, that reminds me. I heard something about you spending the night in jail once? Care to explain?”

Dipper and Mabel shoveled in another scoop of waffle, and took a lot more time eating it than any other bite before.

Finally, Mabel swallowed and spoke. “What happens in the forgery room stays in the forgery room.”

“Got it.” Anna nodded, having spent a summer or two with her uncle herself. She finished off the last of her toast and wiped her hands on her skirt, glancing between her legs at the oven clock.

“Well, you two finish up quick so we can get your pictures before your dad has to go to work and you have to be at the bus stop.” she jumped off the counter and landed on the tile with her purple flats.

Both kids nodded in recognition, and quickly filled their mouths with heaps of soggy and room temperature waffles. They stood up from the table as Mark came around the corner holding the camera.　

“Alrightly,” he began, gesturing towards the front door. “Grab your bags and pose.”

It was the same pose every year, the kids standing in front of the door, with backpacks slung over their backs and big smiles on their faces as they prepared for their first day of the new school year. The photos over the years showed a timeline of how the twins had grown, and the fads they had gone through on the way.

Mark snapped two pictures with his fancy camera, then a couple more with his phone. “For FaceShots.” he told them. Then he hit the top corner of his phone, and bent down with the kids. “And a selfie.” he smiled, and Anna jumped in behind the kids, who both held up peace signs.

Mark slid his phone in his pocket, before grabbing each kid in a hug, and giving Anna a kiss.

“Have fun at your first day of eighth grade, teenagers.” he smiled.

“We will!” Dipper called back.

“Have fun at work, Dad!” Mabel added.

Mark disappeared around the corner, and a small jingle played as the door opened, and then shut.

“Well,” Anna said after the sound of Mark's commuter car had dissapeared. “ready to head out?”

“Yeah!” the twins both cried, pumping their fists in the air.

And they genuinely were ready, and they were excited. It's an amazing talents kids have, the ability to bounce back no matter what happens.

Then they rounded the corner and went into the garage all the way to the minivan. Both kids sat in the back seat on the agreement that if only one of them could ride shotgun neither of them would.

There wasn't much conversation nor time for it on the way to the bus stop, just a bit more than a block down the road from their home. Anna pulled up the corner and opened the automatic door for them, smiling and giving them her love as they gathered their bags and hopped out, waving back to her.

When they were little she would drive them all the way to school every day, but since she had gotten her job at the local library she settled for dropping them off at the bus stop on the way.

The corner was nearly but not quite abandoned, Dipper and Mabel were there along with one seventh grader and a three kids they didn't recognize and assumed were sixth graders. No one spoke at the bus stop, not even Mabel who was too busy vibrating from excitement to say much. Neither twin really had friends in the neighborhood.

For a few minutes it looked like it was going to be a repeat of seventh grade, when the bus skipped their stop all together and the twins made it until ten o'clock sitting on the side of the road until they caved and called their mom to explain what had happened, and also why they hadn't called earlier. Or said anything when the high schoolers came and left.

Then the bus came around the bend in the road ten minutes late, before coming to a creaky stop at the corner. Dipper and Mabel elbowed their way to the front of the line forming at the folding doors, then climbed the steep stairs and down the nearly empty aisle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooo boy it's been a while. But, hey! an update! with minimal editing. I'll try to be better in the future.
> 
> As always, if you have any thing you'd like to see, give me a shout! I'd love some ideas

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to you can suggest another event after disaster for me to write about, either here or on my tumblr, my username's stormsthing1 there too!


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